


A Few Bruises and a Fractured Rib

by origamixravens



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 12:34:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2773184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/origamixravens/pseuds/origamixravens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy and Murphy aren't the best of friends. But when Bellamy fractures one of Murphy's ribs in a fight, Clarke knows there's something up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Few Bruises and a Fractured Rib

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not all caught up with Season 2, but this fanfiction takes place promptly after season 2, episode 5. I won't spoil anything for you yet, though I highly doubt you haven't been spoiled by now. But if you haven't, congratulations to you. I wish I could say the same for myself.

Clarke was in the tent serving as medical base when she heard the loud cheers of a gathered crowd.  
She looked to her mother, who had also looked up at the sudden noise.  
"I'll check it out." Clarke said, moving away from the table where she had been sorting herbs and medicine.  
"You stay here."

Without waiting to see her mother's reaction, Clarke had already slipped outside.

A ring of spectators blocked her view, and she looked around to see if there were any guards coming.  
There weren't.

Clarke rushed over to see what all the ruckus was about. Pushing through the crowd of people; both teenagers and adults alike.  
She emerged on the other side after a few moments, and sucked in her breath suddenly when she saw exactly what everyone had gathered round to see.

Bellamy and Murphy were having a brawl in the middle of Camp Jaha. Murphy swung his right fist upwards, his already bloody knuckles colliding with Bellamy's jaw. His nose was broken, the blood dripping onto his lips and coloring them bright red. Bellamy retaliated and punched him right in his bright red lips, and Clarke couldn't resist a small smile when she saw Murphy stumble back.

Bellamy squared his powerful shoulders, dark eyes flashing. He wasn't bleeding; not heavily at least. His knuckles were bloodied, and there was a thin trail of blood coming from his mouth. No serious visible wounds. Yet.

Normally, Clarke would just let the brawl run its course. Bellamy had gotten into enough fights in the past for Clarke to know it was best to just let it run its course. Let Bellamy pour some of his bottled up rage out of his body. Normally, Clarke wouldn't have worried so much.

But this wasn't normal. His eyes were darker, his hands curled so tightly into fists that the white of his knuckles stuck out against the red blood.  
Murphy had stumbled backwards, but before he could recover, Bellamy had already shoved him roughly down to the ground.  
"Bellamy!" Octavia yelled from opposite the ring from Clarke.  
"Just stop!"

But Bellamy seemed not to hear; or not to care. Again and again, he slammed his fist into Murphy's face. Again and again, Clarke winced until she realized that Murphy had had enough, that she had had enough of Bellamy's seemingly endless fighting, and spoke up.

"Bellamy!" She broke away from the ring of people and grabbed Bellamy's forearm tightly in both her hands, inhibiting him from throwing another punch at Murphy.  
"Bellamy, he's already down." Clarke said softly. Bellamy glared up at her, but Clarke knew that he wasn't mad at her. He was furious with Murphy; even more so than usual. Clarke couldn't understand why.

Bellamy pulled his arm out of her grasp, and grabbed Murphy by the collar with both hands.  
"She saved your life; twice now." Bellamy growled, his voice low; anger swimming, barely contained behind his words.  
"That's two times more than I think you deserve. Show her some respect."

Bellamy threw the battered Murphy back and away from him, before standing and storming away.  
"Bellamy!" Clarke called after him. The crowd parted for the steaming co-leader of the 100. Clarke took two steps forward to follow him, but a low, pained moan from Murphy pulled her gaze away from Bellamy's retreating back to Murphy's battered face.

Spotting Jasper and Wick standing directly in front of her, Clarke gestured them forward. "Carry him back to medical." Clarke ordered as she turned her back on Murphy and faced the medical base tent.  
"I'll run ahead and get everything ready."  
Clarke dashed away, pushing through the murmuring crowd and into the medical tent.

 

With help from her mother, Clarke was able to dress and bandage all of Murphy's wounds within the hour. Patting the last bandage across his ribs down, Clarke stepped back a step and looked Murphy over.  
His nose had been broken, with several gashes across his face. Bellamy had fractured a rib on him; something that had furrowed Clarke's brow when she had assessed the damage done to Murphy.

Clarke felt a tap on her shoulder, and she turned around to see her mother standing behind her.  
"We need to talk." She said softly. Clarke turned her head to check on Murphy. When she found he had already fallen asleep, Clarke nodded and followed her mother to a far corner of the medical tent.  
"Bellamy is lucky." Abby whispered softly to her daughter.  
"If Kane were still Chancellor, he would have gotten a few lashes for that stunt."  
Clarke shook her head. "He fractured a rib on Murphy; sure he doesn't like the guy, none of us really do. But he must have good reason for beating him up so bad."  
Abby nodded. "Well I hope so. If Bellamy proves to be too... rough, then we'll have to take disciplinary action next time."  
Clarke nodded. "I'll talk to him."  
"You do that." Her mother agreed. "I'll stay here and watch the kid."  
Nodding, Clarke turned and made her way out of the tent.

The cool night air hit her hard. Clarke sucked in a breath as she looked around Camp Jaha.  
Unable to find her hot-headed co-leader, Clarke settled instead for the next Blake sibling.  
She found Octavia sitting in front of one of the fire pits, Jasper and Monty on either side of her, passing around a mason jar filled with Monty's moonshine.  
"Hey guys." Clarke greeted, sitting down in the dirt in front of them, crossing her legs as she did.  
"S'up Clarke?" Jasper asked as he took a swig of moonshine. He held the jar out to her, cocking his head in offering.  
Clarke thought for a moment before accepting the jar and taking one large gulp of the stinging beverage.

"Damn!" Monty exclaimed as he took the jar from Clarke's outstretched hand. "She drank almost half of it!"  
"Glad to see someone beside myself is worried about my brother." Octavia remarked as she took her turn at the jar of moonshine.  
"What makes you say that?" Clarke asked curiously.  
"Clarke, you only drink when its Unity day or someone's missing." Jasper observed, taking the jar from Octavia.  
"Its basically a fact now." Clarke paused at Jasper's words. He was right.

"Do you know why they got into such a heated fight?" Clarke asked, taking her second turn with the jar.  
"Not really." Octavia stated.  
"But I do know that Raven and Wick were there when it happened. You might wanna ask them." Clarke nodded, taking a swig from the jar and handing it back to Monty.  
"Right over there." Monty pointed toward an area where a few tables and chairs had been laid out for dining. Clarke spotted a familiar set of crutches leaning against one of the tables.  
"I see them." Clarke said, standing.  
"Thanks guys."  
Octavia waved her off, handing the almost empty jar to Jasper. "No problem! Knock some sense back into my knucklehead brother, will you?" Clarke flashed the younger brunette a smile before making her way towards Raven and Wick.

"Hey." Clarke greeted the two as they sat quietly, drinks in front of both of them.  
"I'm guessing you want to know about Murphy and Bellamy, don't you?" Raven asked, sipping her drink.  
"That would be helpful." Clarke agreed.  
"Well, we were there when it all started." Raven said, nodding at Wick.  
"But he was listening more than I was. Those two lunatics fight; its nothing new to me."  
Clarke looked at Wick, who cleared his throat before starting.

"Murphy was talking about a girl here in camp, and Bellamy just kinda snapped." Wick said simply, looking a little nervous as he did.  
"In what way?" That didn't make any sense. Why would talking about a girl upset Bellamy enough to fracture someone's rib?  
"He was... um, objectifying her, I guess?" Wick scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably.  
Raven sighed audibly and rolled her eyes. "Murphy was talking about this girl in a sexual way to one of his cronies." Raven clarified. She turned to Wick, shaking her head. "Honestly, is that so hard to say?"  
"Actually, yes." Wick shot back. Raven rolled her eyes.  
"But who was he talking about? Octavia?" Clarke asked. Octavia. It was probably Octavia.

"Um... no." Wick said. Raven gave her a look as if to say 'are you stupid?'.  
"Oh. Well then who?" She asked, completely bewildered.  
"Jesus, Clarke." Raven exclaimed, exasperated.  
"You! Murphy was talking about you!"  
For a moment, Clarke wasn't sure if she had heard Raven right. But from the uncomfortable look on Wick's face, she knew her ears had heard right.

 

"Bellamy?" He turns at the sound of her voice, powerful muscles rippling under his clothes.  
"Princess." He greets as she walks nearer. He's standing close to the electrified fence; close enough to make her nervous. But not for herself.  
"Are you okay?" She asks. Bellamy swings his head around to look at her in surprise.  
"I thought you'd come out here to scold me. I know what I did to Murphy."  
The soft light of confusion and starlight danced in his dark eyes. And she looked at him in that way that Bellamy couldn't resist; a mixture of strength, worry, and a hooded, hidden safety that she felt only when he was around. 

They were close; too close. Both to the electric fence and to each other. Clarke choose to believe that the former was the reason for her quick breathing and erratic heartbeat. In a corner of her mind, Clarke knew the truth. But she chose to ignore it. 

"But I know why." Clarke answered, crossing her arms and staring out into the darkness beyond the wire fence. Clarke could feel Bellamy's burning gaze on her; whether he was surprised or not, however, she couldn't tell.  
"Thanks for looking out for me." Clarke continued. Bellamy grunted.  
"Who told you?" He asked.  
"Raven and Wick."  
"Then you don't know the half of it." Clarke turned her head to look at Bellamy. She felt a fire of irritation light itself in her gut.  
"What do you mean?" She asked, somewhat harsher than she had intended for it to come out. But Bellamy looked angry, and she didn't even know why.  
"I know that Murphy was talking... Inappropriately about me and you defended me because you're my friend."

"Like I said," Bellamy cut her off suddenly.  
"You don't know the half of it."  
He started to walk off, but Clarke wouldn't just let him walk away from her. Not now.  
"Hey! Stop, and talk to me." It came out more like a plead than an order, but if Bellamy noticed he didn't say anything.  
Bellamy pulled his arm out of her grip, but didn't walk away. Instead, he crossed his arms and waited for Clarke to speak.  
"You said I don't know the half of it." Clarke countered.  
"So tell me the half of it."

Bellamy frowned at her and said nothing.  
"Damn it Bellamy!" She exclaimed, loudly and suddenly enough to make him jump.  
"Just tell me what's going on! Raven and Wick are telling me you fractured Murphy's rib because he was being inappropriate. I come here to thank you for being my friend and having my back, and you're here angry at me when I don't have a clue in hell why! Damn it Bellamy!"  
Clarke jabbed her finger into Bellamy's chest, pushing him back and away from the electric fence and the cover of scrap metal.  
"I didn't defend you because you're my friend Clarke." Bellamy exclaimed, exasperated. They were lingering in and out of the shadow of the scrap metal and the light of the torches from the camp. But neither one of them noticed.

"Then why?" Clarke asked.  
Bellamy scoffed. "Are you really that stupid that you can't understand?" Bellamy asked her loudly.  
Clarke frowned deeply at him, but didn't acknowledge the insult. "So educate me." She challenged.

They stood in silence for a few moments, eyes locked in a silent argument more heated and intense than most of their past arguments had ever been.  
But the argument ended how most of their fights did. Clarke asked for something, and she got what she wanted. 

Bellamy cupped her cheek with one hand and smashed his lips roughly and suddenly to hers. He pressed his rough, warm hand into the back of her neck to pull her closer.  
Clarke stood, motionless and unresponsive for a few moments. But as Bellamy began to pull away, Clarke grabbed his face with both and hands and pulled his lips back to her.  
A low sound of muffled surprise came from the back of Bellamy's throat as he quickly reciprocated Clarke's heated kiss. "This simple enough for you?" Bellamy asked, smirking as he pulled away breathlessly, pressing his foreheads against Clarke's. "Shut up." Clarke quipped as she pulled him back down by the collar to meet her lips. Bellamy's chuckle was muffled by their lips crashing once again. 

From across the camp, Octavia, Monty, Jasper, Raven, and Wick watched from where they sat in front of the fire as the two co-leaders kissed passionately.  
"You owe me a bottle of moonshine." Jasper said, leaning behind Octavia and poking Monty in the back teasingly. Monty shot him an irritated look over his shoulder.  
"When I told her to knock some sense back into him," Octavia joked. "I didn't mean it that way." Raven put her palm up in the air, facing Wick. He slapped her hand in a high five, neither looking away from Clarke and Bellamy.  
Octavia grabbed the mason jar, taking the last swig of moonshine.  
"And all it took were a few bruises and a fractured rib."


End file.
